


Like Real People Do

by Downtoncat



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Comfort, Dancing, Fix-It, Gay Bar, Homophobia, Love, M/M, Making Out, Romance, Sexual Identity, so the ship's called chrismas i guess?, soft, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:56:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Downtoncat/pseuds/Downtoncat
Summary: No, that raid never happened. Yes, Thomas and Chris had much more fun. ;) A short little thing, written with Hozier’s "Like Real People Do" playing somewhere in the back of my mind.





	1. Chapter 1

Thomas was here; feet firmly on the ground, arms wrapped tight around another man, breathing in the thick and warm air of the room, music in his ears, blood warm in his veins – but he still feared it was only a beautiful dream.

The music was fast and lively and Thomas had never danced with a man before, he didn’t really know all the steps… But he couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun!

They were spinning around, chest to chest, in their own little private bubble despite the din around them, and every time their eyes met, bolts of passion would strike through Thomas’s body and enkindle flames inside him – all the more because he was sure that Chris liked _him_ at least as much as _he_ fancied Chris.

It was a place unlike any other. He had no idea that men like him, working class men, had havens like this to go to. A place where they could be themselves without judgement or scorn, where they could dance together, kiss without reservations and in the open, even wear makeup and whatever clothes they chose!

He didn’t know these people, he hardly even knew Chris, but Thomas was so utterly happy and surrounded by me who made him feel completely welcome. This felt more at home than his childhood home; and it certainly felt more like home than Downton ever did.

The jig that was loudly echoing off the walls all around them slowly came to an end, and the couples on the dance floor stopped to applaud the musicians.

Chris’s hands loosened their grip around Thomas’s waist and he turned towards him.

“Care for a beer?” he asked, a wide smile stretching across his face. He had bright white teeth, his hair was loosely falling over his eyes and there were tiny drops of sweat glimmering on his forehead - Thomas found it extremely attractive.

Thomas smiled back and nodded, and they stepped over to the side as the musicians started a new upbeat tune, and the figures on the dance floor began dancing to the beat again.

Thomas followed Chris over to the small bar that was set up there, not too far from the entrance where they came in.

As the tall, mustached man ordered them two drinks, Thomas took a moment to observe him.

He’d been observing him all evening, in fact. Since he saw him at that pub. He couldn't believe it when Chris invited him to come along, it almost felt too good to be true; much like this place.

But god, he was handsome! And he was just like Thomas.

Thomas wouldn’t dare to assume anything, not after the incidents he’d been through in the past. He found stability at Downton, but no real happiness...

Yet, this was real. This was how a man was supposed to feel; liberated and able to be himself with no restraints to shackle his emotions.

Chris was so free and comfortable in his own skin, more than Thomas ever thought was possible for a man of their disposition. There was something refreshing on him, something alluring and exciting.

Dancing with Chris, Thomas felt as comfortable around him as if he’d known him for years – even though they were practically still strangers.

Chris glanced upward and noticed that Thomas was watching him; he grinned at him coyly and met his eyes without reserve.

Thomas looked away like a timid schoolboy, caught ogling his crush – but then he remembered that he had nothing to be ashamed of and that there was no one watching or judging them.

He looked at Chris again, locking eyes with him and not shying away this time.

Chris had lovely eyes; brown, with flecks of green that shone with passion and life in the dim light of the warehouse.

It had been so long since Thomas liked someone, and especially since that same someone liked him back.

The bartender got them their beers and Chris led the way to a free table somewhere in the back.

The loud music was still playing in the background, a crowd was dancing and laughing, people were kissing and chatting in practically every corner; the warehouse was hazy from the smoke and dimly lit, but it was so cosy and homely. Thomas still glanced around in astonishment as they walked over to the table. He wished he could stay here forever.

They put their beers down onto a table in the corner, and they both sat on the same side of an improvised bench that was really just a wooden plank put across two crates.

“So, Mr Barrow,” Chris began, a flirtatious smile lingering on his lips. “I reckon you’re not from York then?”

“Not from the city, no,” Thomas replied and took a sip of his beer. “I work at Downton Abbey.”

“Blimey, fancy that,” Chris exclaimed. “Valet?”

“Butler.”

Chris whistled to show how impressed he was, but Thomas just smiled.

“And you?”

“Ah, far less glamorous, my job,” Chris said and brought the pint up to take a sip. “I work in a shoe factory.”

Thomas loved how Chris pretty much never broke eye contact with him – it was almost intimidating but it made Thomas lose himself in those eyes and forget their surroundings and other people.

“At least you get around a bit,” Thomas commented. “Have more freedom, know places like this,” he continued. “Me, I’ve been stuck there pretty much all my life. Not that I hate it, but seeing all the things I’ve been missing out on…”

He waved his hands in the air, gesturing everywhere around them.

Chris smiled coyly and Thomas’s heart skipped a beat.

“Well, maybe it’s time you catch up on a few of them,” he said in his low and slightly raspy voice.

Thomas felt a force, a magnet, tugging at them both, pulling them closer to each other - until he found himself less than an inch away from Chris’s lips and could feel his breath against his own skin.

It had been so long…

Thomas felt an anticipation, a desire so strong. He wanted someone and that someone wanted him too.

His eyes slid close, but he couldn’t move; he let the other man cross the short bridge between them – and then Thomas felt Chris’s lips on his own.

Their lips brushed together softly at first, but as Chris moved to deepen the kiss, Thomas met him with the same intensity and hunger.

They didn’t need to worry about anyone walking in on them; they didn’t have to hide, they didn’t have to shy away in the shadows.

Thomas felt something waking up inside him and he wrapped his hands around Chris’s waist, pulling him closer, desperate for contact, for the warmth of another man’s body which his own had almost forgotten the feeling of after all the years of solitude.

Chris ran his fingers through Thomas’s hair and Thomas leaned into the touch almost with a sigh.

They fell into a row of kisses that lasted and lasted, and Thomas became overcome by how starved of love he’d been all these years.

In this little dream tonight, he wasn’t a foul aberration of nature; he was just a man, and he was allowed to love another man. No apprehension, no one telling them that it's wrong. They could love freely - like real people do.

Thomas felt the fingers of Chris’s hand curling around the nape of his neck and his other hand was wrapped around his waist, holding onto him, pulling him ever closer. Chris kissed his upper lip, then his lower lip and bit it gently.

A soft moan escaped from the back of Thomas’s throat and he parted his lips willingly, hungry for more.

It didn’t matter where he would be in the morning, it didn’t matter what would happen tomorrow – but today he was letting himself be happy.

His body recalled the sensations that had all but faded away; his heart remembered the emotions it had locked away a long time ago, for fear of where they could lead him if he were to indulge in them.

He didn’t need to hide them today. He could let himself _feel_ them, and he did – they washed over him like rain on a desert and breathed life, breathed hope into him.

The pair leaned away slightly for air, both a bit breathless and craving for more. Thomas put his palm against Chris’s cheek, his eyes resting on the other man’s lips.

“Are- are there any rooms- I mean,” he struggled to compose his hazy thoughts soaked in lust. “Could we go somewhere more... private?”

Chris smirked and leaned forward again to press a soft kiss on Thomas’s lips before he replied.

“Tired of dancing already, Mr Barrow?” he whispered a tease.

He reached down for Thomas’s gloved hand and brought it up to his mouth to kiss, but his eyes looked up, fixing on Thomas’s.

Thomas felt his body tense with nervous anticipation. He felt hypnotized by Chris's eyes and couldn't tear his eyes away. He licked his lips and let out a shaky breath as Chris’s lips travelled down his hand, leaving a trail of three warm kisses on it.

Then Chris lifted his head up again and spoke in a soft and low voice: “There’s a few smaller rooms in the back,” he said. “Not many people know about them, so if we’re lucky one should be empty...”

Thomas nodded and pulled Chris into another kiss. They were both eager to go, but they weren’t quite ready to let go of each other just yet – even though they knew there was more to follow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I've fallen into this hole a little bit deeper. I'm making it a three-chapter short story.  
This chapter is bscly just the shag, but the third one's already in the making and I'm giving Chris a personality.

They made their way through the hustle and bustle of the music and the crowd, and Chris led Thomas to the back of the warehouse, where they came to a short flight of stairs and descended down.

At the bottom of the staircase was a narrow dark hallway, faintly illuminated by the dim light coming from upstairs, and there were three doors on each side of it. Some very telling and indiscreet sounds were coming from the first door on their right.

Thomas could hardly believe it; he was astonished by the freedom all around him. He exchanged looks with Chris and they both smirked.

Chris took a step over to the nearest door on their left and pressed his ear against it for a second to listen.

There was an anticipation building up in Thomas, rushing through his veins. He felt alive; alive and full of passion and desire he’d forgotten were still in him.

This other room seemed quiet enough, and after a few moments Chris reached for the doorknob and cautiously pushed it open.

Thomas held his breath.

It was empty.

“Must be our lucky day, Mr Barrow,” the other man commented, a mischievous smirk stretching across his face.

He turned on the light and it illuminated the place. Thomas gathered it was probably one of the smaller storage rooms. It smelled a bit damp, but that was nothing unexpected. There were some empty and dusty shelves mounted on the wall, a few wooden boards, a bucket and something that looked like tools (most of which were broken or just loose handles of tools) were sitting in the right corner, and there was a solitary mattress in the centre of the room.

“'Fraid it's not exactly fit for a king,” Chris commented and gestured to Thomas to step in.

Thomas smiled with amusement because he remembered the pompous idiots and all the fuss back at home that he’d escaped.

The room didn’t bother him; the warehouse was more than perfect in itself and what it represented.

He boldly stepped over to Chris and pulled him by his tie and into a kiss.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “The King’s at Downton tonight anyway, and I’d much rather be me if that means I get to be here with you.”

Chris furrowed his brow but his lips stretched into a confused smile.

“What? _The_ King is at Downton Abbey?”

Thomas nodded as if it were nothing, keeping his eyes on Chris’s lips.

“On a royal tour or something, staying at great houses, including ours. ’S why I’ve run away from there for today, let the others fuss around them. Didn’t fancy having to deal with them.”

The other man shot him a flirtatious smile and wrapped one arm around Thomas’s back to pull him in closer, and with his other hand he closed the door behind them.

The music from the party upstairs got muffled and the room immediately felt more private.

“Then I should be very flattered that you’re ditching the King for me, Mr Barrow,” Chris said in a low voice and met Thomas’s eyes with no timidness.

Thomas felt his heart pounding rapidly inside his chest. They were already close enough that they could hear each other’s breathing, but it felt like they were being pulled closer still.

Before they realized it, their lips were pressed together again, and the breath they shared was full of longing and desire.

They staggered further into the room, without breaking the kiss, their hands tugging at each other’s clothes eagerly, desperate for skin-on-skin contact.

Chris’s thigh pushed between Thomas’s legs, and Thomas breathed a shaky breath into the kiss at the feeling of Chris’s hard-on pressed against his thigh.

_Oh, god,_ he suddenly thought, his mind hazy with lust. A tiny speck of insecurity awoke inside him, making his confidence falter ever so slightly.

It’s been years since he’d been with someone. Tonight, he was driven by passion and he wanted this – he wanted Chris – and seeing how eager the other man was only made Thomas want him more. Yet he couldn’t help but feel a bit out of practice.

He didn’t have much time to overthink it though; his body was fervent and it responded to each touch, each kiss. He trusted the man he was with – but then again, he wouldn’t have gone with him if he hadn’t.

Thomas’s lips parted under Chris’s as he let Chris guide him to the matters, both moving a bit awkwardly but in a way akin to a passionate dance.

Chris tugged at Thomas’s braces and pulled them down, fingers already expertly moving forward to unbutton Thomas’s shirt.

Thomas managed to get as far as to undo the other man’s tie before they tumbled down onto the old mattress together; Thomas on his back and Chris crawling on top of him.

“Chris, I-” Thomas mumbled into a kiss, breathless. “I’s been a while-”

He could feel his hard-on pressing against the seam of his trousers, aching and throbbing, and he still felt Chris’s own erection pressed hard against his inner thigh.

“Don’t worry,” Chris replied and kissed Thomas deeply, their tongues craving to taste one another. “Don’t go thinking it’s that often for me either.”

A spot of confusion invaded Thomas’s mind.

“But you-,” he muttered between kisses, only half concentrated. Chris’s hands running up and down his chest and stomach were distracting him. “You know places like this, surely you must-”

He felt the corners of Chris’s mouth lifting up into a smile.

“I do come here to have some fun,” he replied, breaking the kiss. “But doesn’t mean I go with blokes all the time – only if I _really_ like them.”

He leaned away slightly to better see Thomas’s confused face; his eyebrows jumped up in a flirtatious manner and he smirked.

“Only with the handsome ones,” he teased and then dipped his head lower to kiss Thomas’s bared neck.

Thomas’s eyes slid closed and he focused on the arousing sensations that Chris’s lips were making him feel; Chris pressed a trail of kisses down Thomas’s neck, his tongue tasting the sweat on his skin and his mustache occasionally softly brushing against the side of his neck.

"Hnn..."

Thomas’s minute moment of hesitation very quickly faded away under the light of eagerness in his heart and body.

He grabbed Chris’s hips tightly and rolled his own hips up against his. They both let out a breathless moan in unison as their erections brushed against each other, a little frustrated that the touch was restricted by the fabric of their clothes.

Although reluctantly, the pulled apart, Chris leaning away to remove his trousers, and in the meantime Thomas removed his shirt and threw it somewhere on the floor beside them.

His hands returned to the task of finally unbuttoning Chris’s shirt, and then proceeded to wrap around his lover’s back and pull him closer.

Thomas dug his fingers into his strong muscles, just as Chris reached down and in a very swift and effortless motion unbuttoned Thomas’s trousers.

With his lips not leaving Thomas’s for a single moment, Chris’s hand tugged down Thomas’s underwear and he curled his fingers around his erection.

The muscles in Thomas’s legs tensed.

“Oh, _god_,” he moaned and dipped his head back, holding onto Chris even tighter, feeling almost lightheaded from the sudden sensation.

The music upstairs was still raging, but all of Thomas’s other senses were numbed.

He’d forgotten what it _felt_ like; he’d gotten used to spending every night alone, helplessly hugging the air as he lay in his bed, waking up in the morning only to realize that the man from his dreams was not made of flesh and bones but out of down stuffed inside a pillow.

To imagine all the desires that were gradually stripped away from him – when _this_, all of this was waiting just around the corner! He rediscovered ardour and life and feelings that he always thought were not meant for him in this reality.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around Chris’s erection next, drawing out of his lips a desperate moan.

“_Ah_\- yes, yes, like that-” Chris begged and pushed his hips into Thomas’s hand, craving for more friction. His face was constricted with pleasure and it made Thomas's stomach drop with desire.

They stroked each other, slowly at first, but gradually gaining momentum, falling into a coordinated rhythm that they could read in each other’s eyes.

Thomas felt his body bursting into flames, burning with pure passion that he’d locked somewhere deep down – but now that it caught fire it was inextinguishable.

All Thomas could hear were his and Chris’s panting breaths, cutting through the sound of muffled din coming from upstairs, and he found himself falling into those brown-green eyes again, forgetting the world around them.

He was not alone; he had someone, even if it was only for a night. He found a place where he could belong. Thomas never imagined he could find freedom like he had experienced it in the span of this last hour or so.

They both came almost at the same time, Thomas first and Chris following only seconds later. He slumped over Thomas and rested his head between Thomas’s shoulder and neck, placing one of his hands on his chest.

Thomas laced his fingers through Chris’s hair and stroked him gently. He closed his eyes and just let himself feel Chris’s warm breath against his skin. Let himself feel nothing but their sweaty bodies entangled together in an inseparable cluster of slowly burning embers.

He simply let himself enjoy the closeness of another man; a real one, made of flesh and bones. One that wasn’t going to fade away with the first rays of sunshine.


	3. Chapter 3

They were lying on the old mattress, and only a thin sheet that Chris provided from a small cupboard by the door was covering them from the waist down. The room wasn’t cold, however; it was small enough so that their breathing and the heat from their bodies kept it quite pleasant.

Thomas’s head was resting next to Chris’s shoulder, and his fingers were drawing little circles and shapes across Chris’s chest.

The party upstairs continued into the night it seemed, but Thomas was pleased that they found this private place.

He looked up to observe Chris’s face. It was still very youthful, even though he suspected Chris was around the same age as him. The mustache added a touch of maturity, but there was a mischievous twinkle in his eyes; a zeal for life.

Chris turned his head to the side and met Thomas’s eyes with a carefree smile.

It made Thomas feel a familiar comfort, but he wasn’t sure why.

Was it only because Chris was like him? Or because they were at this safe, welcoming place? Or perhaps it was something more that made Thomas feel a connection with Chris right from the start…

_Where did you come from?_ Thomas thought as the corners of his lips darted upwards, mirroring Chris’s expression. _What brought you into my life, and what took it so long?_

“Tell me more about yourself,” he suddenly heard Chris’s low voice ask, a question which interrupted his thoughts. “You’re butler at a fancy house, I know that much – but what else is there to this Mr Barrow?”

Thomas smiled and thought for a moment as he let his hand still on the other man’s chest.

“Well, I’m from a village in the north of Yorkshire, I’ve got an older sister, Emily. My dad was a clockmaker and-”

Chris put his hand against Thomas’s cheek, cupping his face, and Thomas paused, looking wide-eyed at the other man.

Under the sheets, Thomas felt the other man’s legs brush against his own and tangle between them, drawing the two men closer.

“That’s nice,” Chris said and ran his thumb gently over Thomas’s bottom lip. “But I meant different things; what do you like to do? What are you passionate about?”

_Passionate… _It sounded an odd word in Thomas’s ears. One that was seldom associated with his line of work – unless you were Mr Carson, perhaps. For Thomas work was just work, but he had few things in his life apart from his job. He’d never been more aware of this than now.

“I like dancing,” he finally said. “And reading – as much time as I get for it, anyway. I like clocks – I mean-” he felt his face going hot. “I’m not _passionate_ about ‘em but… they’re interesting. Like people.”

Chris observed him with interest. His eyes never gave Thomas a reason to feel embarrassed, which was very comforting, but Thomas still decided that he'd rather let the other man speak now. 

“Uh, so… What about you?”

Chris’s brown eyes sparkled excitedly. “Me, I want more adventures in my life. Don't want to spend it here, in a factory. I want to see the world.”

Thomas smiled, and for a brief moment he remembered someone who’d also wanted to travel the world… someone he’d known and loved a long time ago; it didn’t make him sad. It might have done in the past, but now it was just a fond memory he kept in his heart and would always cherish.

“Where d’you want to go?” he asked and ran his hand down Chris’s hip.

“Everywhere,” the mustached man replied enthusiastically, holding eye contact with Thomas. “India, America, the Continent… I’ve a cousin in the States, might start there.”

Thomas felt a gust of inspiration from Chris’s vagabond spirit. He’d only ever seen the world through books and newspapers, apart from being in America that one time, but that was hardly anything. He might have been _used to_ his life at Downton, but there was a notion of freedom in travelling the world which greatly attracted him.

“Can you afford it?” Thomas asked, but then instantly went red in the face as he remembered that this might not have been the right choice of words. “I mean– isn’t it hard saving up for it with a factory wage an’ all?”

Chris smirked in response. “You underestimate me, Mr Barrow. D’you think I’ve only got one ace up my sleeve?”

He stood up and took a few steps over to the spot where his clothes were lying on the floor.

Thomas couldn’t help himself but to fix his eyes on Chris’s nude form, his hands still remembering the outlines of that lean muscular back they were wrapped around not too long ago. And they very well remembered the outlines of some other parts too…

Chris dug through his pockets and brought back a leather-bound notebook. He settled himself back on the mattress and handed the item to Thomas who opened it curiously.

It wasn’t a _note_book – it was a little _sketch_book. It was full of drawings; people, the city – but mostly it was nature; flowers, trees, hills, lakes…

“Got better stuff at home,” Chris commented, a hint of insecurity laced thorough voice for the first time. “But I take this one with me wherever I go, so I can capture everything that catches my eye. Then I can perfect them when I have time.”

Thomas found Chris’s lack of confidence when he said that these weren’t his best works amusing, yet unbelievable. In truth, they were lovely. Chris had an eye for details and his drawings had a very realistic feel to them.

“They’re beautiful,” Thomas commented. “So that’s how you’re saving up then? By selling your art?”

Chris nodded.

“I do put money aside from my job, but these help. They don’t earn you much a piece, but the more you make, the more you can sell.”

Thomas’s lips stretched into a wide smile and he shook his head incredulously.

Chris mirrored his grin.

“What is it?”

“You have such an interesting life!” Thomas declared. “Drawing and sketching, planning your travels abroad, going to bars like _this_ probably way too often-”

Chris playfully nudged him with his leg under the sheets and flirtatiously raised his eyebrows. “Define ‘too often’!” he demanded.

“All I’m sayin’ is, you’ve got so much going on,” Thomas explained with admiration. “Me, I’ve only known service my whole life. I’ve been at Downton for almost three decades – I can’t complain – but now all I see is that I’ve been focusing on the wrong things. I never dared to think I could focus on other stuff!”

Chris listened attentively, a sympathy in his expression.

“I used to think all I wanted was to get ahead in life,” Thomas went on. “I started as a hallboy, I wanted to be a footman; I became a footman, I wanted to be a valet… I always tried to reach for something on a higher tier, but-”

_But it’s never made me happy, _he wanted to say.

Not truly. Even being a butler; it gave him stability, security, he knew the people at Downton well enough to maybe even call them family – but they weren’t his family. Most of them knew about who Thomas was and they accepted him, but still, he could never be his _real self_ around them.

They knew, but they didn’t want to see. They could listen, but they could never truly understand. Was it really that shocking that only here, surrounded with people like him, Thomas felt entirely comfortable in his own skin for the first time in his life?

Even though the words never left Thomas’s lips, Chris seemed to understand. His eyes were saying that he cared, and something in them told Thomas that he just might feel the same way.

Maybe it was because the thing Thomas was feeling wasn’t so much unfulfillment and dissatisfaction with work itself, but rather… loneliness.

Deep down, he knew he was unhappy because he was missing something in his life that everyone around him seemed to have, or was at least allowed to pursue; the Crawleys, the Bateses, the Carsons, Andy and Daisy, even Mr Molesley and Miss Baxter will end up together as soon as either of them plucks up the courage to tell the other one how they feel, Thomas knew.

_They_ couldn’t understand what it was like to be locked out of that place, but all these lads _could_, and they found ways to fight against the restraints. Thomas admired that, and he admired Chris for his optimistic, free spirit.

The brown-haired man moved closer to Thomas and reached for his cheek before moving his hand a bit further back, threading his fingers through Thomas’s hair.

He leaned in, and Thomas’s eyes were already falling closed as he expected a kiss – but it wasn’t what he got.

“Come with me,” Chris whispered against Thomas’s lips.

Thomas’s eyes immediately opened and stared into those big brown orbs that met his surprised gaze.

“What?”

“Some day. Think about it at least! We can make plans together,” Chris insisted. “D’you want to?”

Leave everything and travel the world with this man? Thomas feared himself because of how _very_ interested he was, no persuasion needed – but it was a daft idea!

“See the world with you?”

“If you need time to save up, that’s fine-“

“That’s the least of my worries,” Thomas interrupted.

“Then what is?”

“Chris, I…”

He didn’t even know where to begin.

“I barely know you, I have a life here, a job, I can’t-“

“But are you happy?”

Chris’s words settled in the room like sand after a windstorm, lying down between them, nothing but silence surrounding them.

“You’ve said it yourself – that you’ve been focusing on the wrong things. So what are the right ones?” Chris insisted. “Look, I’m not sayin’ pack up our bags and leave tomorrow. But if you’re interested, one day, I’d be very happy if we could plan something together. It doesn’t have to be far or forever. The point is; _we_ get to decide.”

Freedom. Chris was offering him freedom. It was tempting, but it put a lot on the line. Yet still, if thought out properly… Maybe this could be his ticket away from the restrictions of Downton. It wouldn’t be easy, he knew, but ultimately it only had to be worth it…

Chris saw the apprehensiveness in Thomas’s expression and removed his hand.

“Look, forget this. I got carried away… I’m only eager because-”

He paused and his tone once again took on a reserved hue as he continued.

“-I’d like to see you again, Thomas,” he said, his voice insecure and indicating that he was wary the other man’s reaction. “Before anything else, I’d just like that. To get to know you better, spend some time with you.”

Thomas left him in suspense for a moment, but he was far too delighted to maintain a serious expression for much longer.

“I'd like that too,” he replied happily. “Very much.”

A sigh of relief and a beaming smile cleared away the insecurity on Chris’s face.

“So can I come visit you then?”

“You’ll have to,” Thomas teased him. “Not at Downton, but maybe we could meet in the village… And I’ll make time to come back to York too,” he added. “We can call it preparation.”

Chris’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“For bigger adventures,” Thomas explained and leaned in to press his lips ardently against Chris’s.

Perhaps he's finally found a reason for them.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really torn because I ship Thomas with both Richard and Chris, but I just felt sooo sorry for Chris because he was literally in the movie only to show Thomas some fun and then to be thrown in prison and never heard of again. So I wrote this cause I feel like he needs some love. #justiceforchriswebster


End file.
